


Phone Calls

by Mina



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mina/pseuds/Mina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiyong accidentally dials the wrong number one day only to hear this low, gruff voice from an impatient man. But somehow, when that accident leads to more phone calls and even facetime, Jiyong and Seunghyun find themselves falling for each other. Hard.</p>
<p>Dedicated to the lovely Rida because she made <a href="http://kwon-jyong.tumblr.com/post/132387132600/this-me-that-you-find-everyday-like-a-child-is">this beautiful gifset and prompt</a> (which I directly ripped off for the summary) just because I said some dumb stuff in my tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saturday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> So in what is perhaps the logical conclusion of my time in this fandom, I have written a non-celebrity AU rom-com. I can't quite believe it myself, but GTOP have made me soft & Rida came up with such a great prompt and idk, it just happened. But this is definitely not my wheelhouse. Usually when I try to be funny it doesn't go well, but Rida has assured me that this fic is not terrible, so please direct any and all complaints at her, [@kwon_jyongg on Twitter](http://twitter.com/kwon_jyongg) and [@kwon-jyong on Tumblr](http://kwon-jyong.tumblr.com)!
> 
> (JUST KIDDING DON'T ACTUALLY BLAME HER FOR MY FIC SHE'S A GOOD PERSON SHE DOESN'T DESERVE THAT)

"Okay, yeah. Like twenty minutes. Are you home? I'll facetime you! Okay. Okay, bye!" Seunghyun hangs up his phone and slips it back into his pocket. "Sorry about that," he says.

Daesung has stopped in his tracks to stare at him – or face him, at least; his eyes are narrowed so far that Seunghyun can't imagine he can actually see anything. "Who was that?" he asks, making up the few paces Seunghyun had continued walking before he noticed his friend was no longer beside him.

"The wrong number guy. Remember, I told you about him. He called me by mistake a few times, but then we started talking and now we're friends."

Deasung has a sly smile. “Who gets wrong numbers anymore?”

Seunghyun shrugs. “My number’s a digit off from the person he was trying to call.”

“But I thought you said he called a few times? How come he didn’t have their number saved to his phone?”

“Oh...it was his ex, actually. Jiyong said he didn’t want to waste space on his phone on such a vile person. That’s his name, by the way. The wrong number guy. Kwon Jiyong.” Seunghyun smiles, remembering Jiyong’s indignant tone when Seunghyun asked the same question Daesung just did. He comes out of his reverie after a moment and notices Daesung is watching him, looking very amused. “What’s so funny?” Seunghyun asks, a self-conscious little laugh escaping his throat.

"I don't know; I was wondering the same thing," Daesung says. "You've been grinning like crazy since he called."

Seunghyun shrugs, feeling silly. They've reached the entrance to the subway and in truth, he's itching to say goodbye to Daesung and get home as soon as possible so he can call Jiyong. "Nothing. I'm just in a good mood. It's Saturday. It's a good day."

Daesung crosses his arms, appraising Seunghyun. "How did you guys start talking again?"

"I don't know; it just kind of happened," says Seunghyun, eyes studying the sky as his mind flashes through a dozen early phone calls. "The first few times...I was just annoyed. And then maybe the fourth time, I was _really_ annoyed, because I was waiting for a call from the firm to see if I got my job or not. And I told him that, and then the next time he called, he asked if I got it, and I told him I did, and I asked him about his breakup and...we just started talking."

“I can’t believe you, of all people, asked a complete stranger about his breakup.”

“I mean, I just asked how he was doing with it. I already knew it was an ex he was trying to call because the first two times he was tipsy and didn’t get that he had the wrong number at first. But he started telling me how terrible his ex was...I don’t know, he was really funny about it. Like, they way they actually broke up –,” Seunghyun interrupts himself laughing – “what happened – his ex – his ex bought him a shirt and wrapped it up nice and gave it to him and watched him open it..and....it said ‘Single and Ready to Mingle’.” He wipes a tear from his eye and realizes that Daesung doesn’t seem to find this story _nearly_ as amusing as Seunghyun. “Well – I can’t tell it as good as he can.”

"No, no, that’s great. And how long ago was that?"

"Like...three months?" Three months sounds both too short and too long; it feels like he's been talking to Jiyong forever, and it feels like no time has passed at all since he first heard his voice.

"Uh-huh," Daesung says. He leans against the wall of the enclosure over the subway steps. "So when are you gonna ask him out?"

"What? No, it's not like that!" Seunghyun says quickly.

"Well...is he single?"

Seunghyun has no interest in admitting that this is a question that has preoccupied him greatly over the last few months. "I think so," he says. "He definitely didn’t get back with his ex, and he never said anything about someone new... He talks about doing stuff with friends, and he lives with his sister, but he never mentions dates or anything. Not that it matters," he adds hastily.

"Does he like guys?"

Seunghyun knows he's blushing now. "I mean...the ex he was trying to call was an ex-boyfriend."

"Mmmm!" Daesung hums triumphantly.

"It doesn't matter!" Seunghyun insists. "We're just friends. He doesn't think of me like that. And _I_ don't –" He fumbles his attempt to end the sentence convincingly.

"You know it would be okay if you did, right? It would be okay to like him?" Daesung asks, his tone gentle now.

"I know," Seunghyun sighs.

"Just because you dated _one_ asshole doesn't mean all guys are terrible and you can never date anyone ever again."

"I _know_ ," Seunghyun repeats.

"So..."

"Listen, Daesungie, it's not going to happen, okay? We're just...we're so different. We've never even met in real life. I don't think he wants to. It's just like...a fun escape for him, you know? To talk to someone completely new? And he's so... He's just not interested. Trust me."

Daesung doesn't look too impressed, but he shrugs and says. "All right; whatever you say. Now go catch your train so you can facetime your 'friend'."

 

* * *

 

"I wanna fuck him _so bad_ ," Jiyong moans.

Chaerin laughs so hard that her head goes out of the frame and all Jiyong can see is her left shoulder and half her throat.

Jiyong's a little miffed by her glee. "Is it really that funny?"

She pops back into view. "Is it really that funny that you want to fuck some guy you've never even met? That's what you're asking me? If it's funny that you want to fuck a dude you only know exists because you suck at dialing your phone? Yeah, it's kind of ridiculous. He could be a total creep!"

"He's _not_ a creep," Jiyong says. "Maybe we've never met, but I _know_ him. We've been talking for months! And anyway, I just found out we have a real-life connection. You know Kim Woobin?"

Chaerin cackles. "The dude who wants to have like, a thousand of your babies?"

"Yeah well, this girl he's dating, Shin Minah, she dated Seunghyun in like, high school or the beginning of college or something."

"Oh, Oppa... You didn't tell me he was straight. Now it's sad."

"He's not straight!" Jiyong snaps. "I mean, not _definitely_. Lots of people date guys and girls. _I've_ dated girls. I mean, _a_ girl, but still! And I talked to Minah and she said they were barely together at all. She said he's a sweet guy but they just didn't click. Okay? So we don't know his sexuality for sure just because he dated one girl for like five seconds when he was a confused teenager."

Chaerin's silent for a moment, digesting this. Then she asks, "Did she say how big his dick is?"

"She doesn't know. All they did was kiss."

Chaerin bursts out laughing again. "You asked her?"

"Not directly," Jiyong says with a shrug. "But I mean, _obviously_ I was going to try to find out how far they went to help figure out how straight he is."

"Well, if he _does_ turn out to be straight, _I'll_ find out how big his dick is, okay?"

Jiyong's mouth falls open. "You will not!" he says. "Absolutely _no way_!"

"Aw, come on. Don't you want to know? I mean I feel like it’s pretty big, just from the screenshot of his face you sent me – I just _sense_ it – but I want to know for sure."

"Are you kidding? Would you want _me_ to sleep with someone _you_ were in love with just to see how big his dick was?"

Chaerin blinks. "In love?" she repeats softly. Jiyong wishes now that they were on a voice-only call. Chaerin is peering at her screen with great intensity. "Love? Really?"

"I don't know," Jiyong says, averting his eyes. "I mean...I think about him all the time...and he makes me laugh a lot...and I tell him everything about my day...and I always want to hear everything about _his_ day...and he just...makes me really happy?" It's terrifically embarrassing to be in love with someone you're not dating – someone who might not even be attracted to your gender – but Jiyong doesn't know what else to call these feelings, and he's never been good at lying.

"Wow. I thought you just wanted to fuck him." Chaerin says.

"Well, that's part of being in love, isn't it?" Jiyong starts chewing on his thumbnail, ignoring the flash of disapproval in Chaerin's eyes.

"Oppa...I don't want to be mean, but...do you think maybe your judgment's being clouded a little bit? Because he's so handsome?"

Jiyong shrugs. "I don't think so," he says. He almost wishes that was all this was – just animal attraction. (Seunghyun happens to be the best-looking guy he's ever seen.) That would be a little easier to deal with than these big, scary feelings that might not be reciprocated. "I wanted him before I even saw his face. Just from talking to him. I remember thinking I didn't even care if he turned out to be ugly." (Ugly would be easier to deal with too – less competition.) “And I haven’t slept with anyone else since we started really talking.”

"Damn," Chaerin says softly.

Jiyong is suddenly hot with embarrassment. "I don't know. I'll get over it."

“Well, maybe you won’t need to!” Chaerin says. “He could be gay! And if he is, I’m _sure_ he likes you. Who wouldn’t?”

“Sometimes I feel like he does,” Jiyong confides. “Sometimes I’m _sure_ he does. But other times…” Other times Jiyong makes comments that feel painfully obvious and Seunghyun brushes them off like the possibility of them dating has never crossed his mind. And it probably hasn’t. It doesn’t seem possible that someone as good-looking and sweet and funny as Seunghyun could like Jiyong. Even with everything they have in common; even with the way he lingers on their phone calls; even with the eager messages Jiyong gets from him throughout the day. He’s too perfect. Jiyong’s not that lucky.

“I guess I should’ve known when you had him saved in your phone as ‘Sexy Voice Stranger’,” Chaerin says.

“You should’ve known when you saw that and then you called him and I almost murdered you,” Jiyong says. If it’d been any other name in his contacts, he would’ve laughed it off, but even back then, when he and Seunghyun had only spoken a few times, Jiyon was already hooked. He was already intensely protective of their fragile connection.

“Listen, if he doesn’t like you, it’s his loss! You’re great, okay? You’re Kwon Jiyong! Do you know how many times I’ve watched guys try to pick you up and you just smirk at them and ruin their lives? You can handle the sexy voice stranger!”

“Thanks,” Jiyong says. He appreciates the sentiment, even if he doesn’t like it all that much right now. He doesn’t want to ruin anyone’s life. He just wants one dumb guy to like him back. “Listen, I’m sorry, but he’s going to call me any minute, so…”

“Okay, okay. I see how it is. Have fun with your platonic boyfriend.”

Jiyong rolls his eyes – exasperated, but mostly for show. “Bye Chaerinah,” he says firmly, and he waves before hanging up.

 

* * *

 

“Daesung’s your friend from college, right?” Jiyong asks.

“Yeah. We even lived together for a little while. I don’t get to see him too often anymore, though, so we try to get lunch together and catch up every few months.” Seunghyun leans back against his headboard, getting comfortable. There was a time when it felt funny to hold his phone up to his face and look at Jiyong like this, but now it’s almost natural.

“Aw, I’m sorry I interrupted, then,” says Jiyong.

“No, it’s all right; when you called he was just, uh, walking me to my stop.” Seunghyun is thrown off when Jiyong shifts his position and the neck of his shirt moves, revealing part of his shoulder and the hollow of his collarbone. “Are you cold?” he blurts out.

“Huh?” Jiyong glances down, then back at the camera. “No, I’m all right. Why?”

“Oh, I just, um...felt a draft. But I guess you didn’t feel it.” He laughs weakly. _Fuckshitfuck_. Why does he have to be so _awkward_? “Um, but I told him about your breakup t-shirt. I hope that’s all right. He thought it was really funny,” Seunghyun says, trying to move the conversation along.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Jiyong flashes him a brilliant smile, but it turns into a smirk. He sticks his fist under his chin and bats his eyelashes. “What else did you say about me, hmm?”

Seunghyun laughs. “Oh, all good things.”

“Did you tell him how cute I am?”

Seunghyun sincerely hopes the lighting in his bedroom is too dim for Jiyong to see the blush now spreading through his cheeks. “No.”

“No? Ah, you didn’t say ‘cute’. You said ‘sexy’, right?”

_Fuck_. Is his laughter hiding his nerves? “Nope, I didn’t say ‘sexy’ either.” This is flirting, right? This _has_ to be flirting. Is Kwon Jiyong really flirting with him? _He probably does this with everyone_ , Seunghyun tells himself. He just has a flirty personality; that’s all.

“So what _did_ you talk about?” Jiyong asks, lowering his hand and leaning back against the wall behind him.

“Oh, uh…” Seunghyun reviews his conversation with Daesung, trying to come up with something he can tell Jiyong about: _We talked about how you’ve dated at least one guy, whether or not you’re single, the likelihood that you’re attracted to me_ … “Um, actually, Daesung was saying he thinks we should meet up,” he finally says, and _fuck_ , that was _not_ what he wanted to say. “I mean, I don’t know, he was just surprised we hadn’t. He didn’t really get it. Our...um...how we talk. Our conversations.” Seunghyun rushes to explain himself, cringing as he does it. At least he managed to avoid saying ‘our relationship’.

“Oh,” says Jiyong. “Would you want to?”

Seunghyun’s heart is threatening to pound out of his chest. Are they really discussing this? After all this time? “I mean...I’ve thought about it. Haven’t you thought about it?”

“Yeah, of course. But...what did you think? When you thought about it.”

“I don’t know,” Seunghyun takes a deep breath. “It…” _It would be so good to see your face in three dimensions. It would be so good to look you in the eyes instead of watching you watch me on a screen. It would be so good to have the chance to touch you._ “It probably wouldn’t be that different from this, I guess.”

Jiyong’s face is very still. Seunghyun can’t begin to guess what going on behind his eyes. “It might be fun, though,” Jiyong says lightly. “You could show me those dance moves you’re always bragging about.”

Seunghyun forgets his anxiety for a moment and bursts out laughing. “You – asshole,” he sputters fondly. Jiyong has been teasing him about dancing ever since Seunghyun declared his hatred for it. “Is that what you want to do? Go dancing together?” He chews on the inside of his cheek, the anxiety back in full force. Could Jiyong possibly want that? It sounds like a _date_.

“Nah, I’m going dancing tonight,” Jiyong says.

“Oh,” says Seunghyun, trying to hide his disappointment. _Does_ Jiyong have a boyfriend?

“So if we’re meeting up tomorrow, I don’t want to go dancing again that fast.”

“Tomorrow?”  Tomorrow is _real_. Tomorrow is _soon_.

“Yeah. Do you have plans?”

“No.”

“Well, me neither. So why not?”

_Why not?_ Seunghyun can think of a few reasons: _Because you might not like me in person, because I might do something really weird and make you uncomfortable, because I’m scared, because I’m not ready to let go of what we have now._ If he fucks up tomorrow, this could be their last real conversation.

But if he doesn’t fuck up… If he doesn’t fuck up, this might bring their relationship to a new level. And as frightening as that is, he wants it more than anything.

He takes a breath to steady himself. He’s doing this. “Okay,” he says, “you want to grab dinner?” Now _that_ sounds like a date. _Fuck._

“Um…” Jiyong chews on his lip, thinking. “Lunch would be better, actually. Can you do lunch?”

Disappointment sinks through Seunghyun’s stomach. Lunch is casual. Lunch is for friends. But friends is better than nothing. In person, friends get to touch sometimes.

They hash out the details of time and place, settling on a café near Seunghyun’s apartment and a one o’clock meeting time. Seunghyun keeps repeating where they’re going to meet, afraid he’ll forget because he’s so distracted thinking about Jiyong dancing with some gorgeous guy who’s actually good at it.

“So who are you going dancing with tonight?” Seunghyun finally asks. He can’t help himself.

“Oh, just some friends,” Jiyong says. “They’ll probably only dance with me for a song or two though. Then I’ll dance by myself for a while, then I’ll give up and we’ll all get drunk. That’s always how it goes.”

“That sounds fun,” Seunghyun says, considerably mollified. Jiyong said _friends_ , plural. Even if it’s a double date or something, that doesn’t make Seunghyun quite as envious. It’s not like Jiyong will be giving all his attention to one person. Like he is with Seunghyun right now. Like he will with Seunghyun in the café tomorrow. Seunghyun sighs dramatically. “I’m so hurt you don’t want to see my dance moves, though,” he says.

“Why don’t you show me now?” Jiyong asks. “It will inspire me for tonight.”

“Really? You think you’re ready to see what I’ve got?” Seunghyun wags his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m _so_ ready. Show me.”

So Seunghyun gets off the bed and finds a spot on his dresser to prop up his phone. As he frames where he’s going to dance, Jiyong calls out, “Hey, wait! Don’t you need music?”

Seunghyun _tsk_ s. “Of course not. A true dancer always has music in his heart.”

“That is the corniest thing I’ve ever heard. I take it back. I don’t want to see you dance.”

“Too late!” Seunghyun says. He takes a few steps back, careful to remain in the shot, and then lets loose his best, silliest dancing. It involves a lot of butt shaking and jerky shoulder movements.

Jiyong falls to pieces laughing. When Seunghyun gets his phone back into his hand, Jiyong has collapsed on his bed, half his face out of frame, giving Seunghyun a look at his ceiling. His free hand is covering his mouth, and Seunghyun is overwhelmed by a powerful urge to reach through the screen and pull his hand away. Jiyong nearly always covers his mouth when he smiles big or laughs, but sometimes he forgets and Seunghyun is treated to his homely, joyful grin, his lips pulled back so far that his gums show.

Jiyong’s laughter is infectious and soon Seunghyun is giggling along with him. Whenever they manage to stop, they look at each other for a beat too long and start up again. Seunghyun can’t believe he’s going to have the opportunity to hear this laughter in person in less than twenty-four hours.

By the time the call ends, Seunghyun thinks he’s well and truly fucked. But he doesn’t know the half of it.

Seunghyun spends his Saturday night flipping through magazines, staring at pictures of furniture he’ll probably never be able to afford, and trying not to obsess over what he’s going to wear to lunch tomorrow. He’s just about to go to bed when his phone rings. It’s Jiyong.

Immediately his mind jumps to the worst possibility: Jiyong’s cancelling on him. Full of dread, he answers. “Hello?”

“Hi. Um, I’m just walking home – shit, how late is it? Did I wake you up?”

“No, it’s fine. What’s going on?”

“Um...I wanna ask you something.” Seunghyun is reminded of his first conversations with Jiyong and realizes he’s buzzed. “I, um – fuck!” There’s a scraping sound and a muffled thump.

“Are you okay?” Seunghyun asks, voice a little too loud.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I tripped but I’m okay. So…yeah, I wanna ask you...um...have you ever dated a guy?”

Seunghyun is stunned. This is not at all the direction he thought the conversation was going. Heat rises from his chest and lights up his face, but he doesn’t mind, because maybe this means what Seunghyun wants so badly for it to mean. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I have.”

The line goes silent. Then Seunghyun hears the soft beeps of a passcode being punched into a door lock. “Okay. Well, I just wanted to know. So I asked.”

“Okay,” says Seunghyun. He doesn’t ask _why_ Jiyong wanted to know, because he really likes this feeling that maybe Jiyong wanted to know because _he_ wants to date Seunghyun. Seunghyun is aware, in the back of his mind, that it’s entirely possible Jiyong is about to try to set him up with some unfortunate friend. But that doesn’t have to be true right now, so Seunghyun just listens to the sounds of Jiyong entering his apartment.

“Okay, I’m home,” Jiyong says. There’s a beat of silence, and then, “Can I facetime you?”

“Sure,” says Seunghyun.

Jiyong’s eyeliner is smudged and his skin is blotchy from drinking and he looks beautiful. They lie in their beds holding their phones out, and it’s only because they’re both tired, but it almost feels like JIyong is lying in bed next to him. Somehow they carry on a normal conversation. They just fall right into it despite Jiyong’s initial question. Only Seunghyun keeps catching himself staring at Jiyong. And sometimes Jiyong will look back and they’ll just be quiet for a stretch.

Eventually Jiyong decides he has to wash his face and brush his teeth, and he doesn’t want to hang up but he doesn’t want to take Seunghyun into the bathroom either, so he leaves his phone on his bed and promises to be back soon. Seunghyun, with nothing to look at but the ceiling, starts to doze.

When Jiyong comes back, Seunghyun wakes to his voice and face and feels like he’s dreaming. “It’s you,” he mumbles.

“It’s me,” Jiyong agrees. In a move Seunghyun now recognizes immediately, Jiyong checks himself out in the bottom corner of his screen. He makes a displeased face and fluffs his hair, but then says, “Yah, I can’t believe you didn’t tell your friend today how cute and sexy I am”

Seunghyun blinks, unable to come up with a response. He just feels warm and lazy and happy. He stares at Jiyong. Somehow in the haze of his sleepy brain, he realizes that Jiyong’s feeling self-conscious: his mouth is a straight line; his shoulders are slightly tense. So Seunghyun does the only thing he can think to do and tells the truth: “You’re really pretty,” he says.

Jiyong blooms like a moonflower. “Thanks,” he says. Then, gently, “I think it’s time for bed.”

“Okay,” says Seunghyun. “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters and an epilogue to follow. I'll probably put them up tomorrow, I just need to take a break from them for a day or so.


	2. Sunday, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so I JUST posted the first chapter and have already received approximately 9,000 super nice comments??? Thank you everyone for being so sweet~ D:
> 
> * * *

“Are you sure you’re at the right one? Because there’s another one up the road by the bank, but I’m talking about the one by the pharmacy.” Jiyong cranes his neck, trying to spot Seunghyun. It shouldn’t be this hard – it’s not like there are that many people walking around with jawlines like his.

“I see the pharmacy.”

“And you’re outside, right? Not inside?”

“Yeah, I’m outside. I’m under the awning.”

“The awning…?” Jiyong repeats. He doesn’t see an awning. “The pharmacy has like a green sign with a blue logo thing, right? Because I think there’s a pharmacy by the one by the bank, too...”

“Green sign, blue logo,” Seunghyun confirms. “You didn’t dye your hair since last night, did you? Still purple?”

“Plum,” says Jiyong. “But yes, still plum. How tall are you?”

“Uh, I don’t know, pretty tall. Like a hundred eighty centimeters maybe? A hundred seventy-five, a hundred eighty centimeters. Somewhere in there.”

Jiyong’s heart flutters thinking about how much taller than him Seunghyun is. Then he thinks about how this corroborates Chaerin’s sense that Seunghyun has a big dick and he has to suppress a snort of laughter. “That’s a pretty wide range!” Jiyong says – it comes out more irritable than he meant it in his effort to cover up his lewd thoughts. “How can you not know how tall you are?”

“It’s not like I spend my time measuring myself,” Seunghyun says, and even more lewd thoughts bounce around Jiyong’s head.

Jiyong stops walking to scan the crowds. Why did they have to pick a café on the most congested little alley in the city? Well, because it’s close to Seunghyun’s building. He wanted to be close to one of their houses in case lunch went well, and Dami’s been lying around their apartment all weekend. He was too embarrassed to kick her out when he’s not even sure something’s going to happen.

 _Is_ something going to happen? _He thinks I’m pretty and he’s dated guys!_ Jiyong repeats to himself, and breaks out into a grin. He’s been chanting it in his head all morning.  This makes three drunken phone calls that he doesn’t regret, the first two being the ones that got him in contact with Seunghyun in the first place. Although he wasn’t really _drunk_ last night; just slightly tipsy. He didn’t want to be hungover for their date ( _is this a date?_ ), but he needed some liquid courage. His friends found it completely ridiculous that he still didn’t know if Seunghyun was straight or not, and he’d resolved to find out before meeting him in real life.

Only Seungho was sympathetic. “Jiyong’s too invested. That’s what it is. When you like someone that much, you can’t separate out what you want them to be from what they are. It happened to me once with a guy.” Jiyong was embarrassed to be called out on the intensity of his feelings for Seunghyun, but at least he has an explanation for why his normally flawless gaydar has such a huge blind spot. (“So was he?” Jiyong’d asked. “The guy you liked?” Seungho shook his head. “He wasn’t.” He shot Jiyong a sly smile. “And then he was.”)

“So you see the pharmacy with the green sign and the café, but not the awning?” Seunghyun asks.

“Yeah, I – oh, there’s the awning! It’s lower than I expected…”

“Well, I’m under it. On the side closer to the convenience store.”

Jiyong gets on his toes, trying to see over the people between him and the patio in front of the café. “I’m trying to get over there, there’s just too many people, sorry. I still don’t see you.”

“You’re definitely in Seoul, right?” Seunghyun jokes.

“Well if I’m not, I’m paying way too much rent…” Jiyong says. A group of people shifts then and Jiyong has a clear view of the front of the café. For an instant he just sees people, tables, chairs, windows, and then suddenly the jumble resolves and he sees Seunghyun there, standing a few feet from the door with his phone to his ear. In a fit of anxiety, Jiyong yanks his phone away from his own ear and ends the call.

He knew Seunghyun was handsome, of course he did, but this is just absurd. He doesn’t even look _real_. This was a mistake. This was a _huge_ mistake. Jiyong wants to run away, or better yet, to melt into a puddle, never to be seen again. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he ever _dream_ this was a _date_? Even if Seunghyun thought Jiyong’s pretty, he’s not going to keep thinking that when he sees Jiyong up close, sees his pores and his acne scars and his split ends.

But still, Jiyong’s feet move forward. What else can he do? Seunghyun is looking down at his phone, probably trying to figure out why their call got cut off, so he doesn’t notice Jiyong approaching. With each step Jiyong sees better how tall Seunghyun is, how smooth his skin, how large his eyes. He’s so handsome Jiyong wants to cry. Will Seunghyun cringe when he sees him?

“Um, hi,” Jiyong says. “I found you.”

Seunghyun looks at him and far from cringing, he _lights up_. His eyes pop and his mouth parts and his dimples show and instantly Jiyong’s smile goes from nervous and forced to ecstatic and genuine. “Jiyongie!” Seunghyun says and moves as if to embrace him, but he turns it into an awkward bow.

Jiyong bows back, and he silently appreciates his foresight to wear a shirt that doesn’t easily show sweat, because his ribs are already slick. He sweats like crazy when he’s feeling nervous or excited or overwhelmed, and right now he’s all three. He can’t believe Seunghyun called him “Jiyongie”. They’ve always avoided addressing each other directly when they talk, because there’s no good way to do it: They didn’t go to the same school; they don’t work at the same place; they’re (thankfully) not related. A few times Seunghyun has called him “Jiyong-ssi”, which is a little stiff. But “Jiyongie” is so familiar; so _intimate_. He should be offended, but it’s thrilling.

“Um,” Seunghyun says just as Jiyong says, “Well…” They laugh, both hesitating to be the one to speak again, until finally Jiyong blurts out, “Do you want to go in?”

“Uh, yeah – yeah, let’s go in.”

They shuffle into the café, the air between them electric and strange. Jiyong can’t stop smiling but he feels like he might die of embarrassment, too. As they stand side-by-side in line, he keeps taking a deep breath and opening his mouth like he’s going to start speaking, only to find he can’t think of a single thing to say. They face the counter, ostensibly studying the menu hung above it, but Jiyong sneaks glances at Seunghyun, and on one of those glances he finds Seunghyun looking back at him. They laugh nervously. “What?” Jiyong asks.

“I don’t know, what?” Seunghyun says, shrugging. He’s so boyish and silly, his cheeks deeply dimpled, and Jiyong aches with fondness.

“I don’t know, you’re looking at me weird,” Jiyong says. He runs his hand through his hair, hoping it looks all right.

“Am I? No, it’s nothing weird, it’s just…”

“What?”

“Well...you’re shorter than I thought you’d be.”

Jiyong pretends to be outraged, but he doesn’t really mind – he finds something very pleasing about being dwarfed by Seunghyun. He’s already fantasizing about how good it would feel to be held in Seunghyun’s arms, hidden behind his broad shoulders. “Is that bad?” he demands.

“No, no, no. It’s not bad at all. It’s just...unexpected?” The line moves and they step forward. “Do I look different than you thought I would?” he asks.

Jiyong very much enjoys the opportunity to give Seunghyun a long look up and down – and enjoys it even further when he detects a hint of a blush rising in Seunghyun’s cheeks. _Fuck, he’s so handsome._ That’s the only difference: Jiyong had assumed that the 1.2 megapixel camera through which he’d been seeing Seunghyun until now was blurring some of the minor flaws that normal people have – not that it was hiding how good-looking he actually is. But he can’t say that. Yet. “Not really,” Jiyong says, “but your voice is deeper in real life.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” says Jiyong, turning back towards the counter. “It’s good,” he adds just before they step up to place their orders.

“Oh.” There’s a hint of a smile in Seunghyun’s voice.

Jiyong gets a salad and Seunghyun gets a sandwich. They find a table in the corner. The café is noisy, but their table is small so they’re close enough to hear each other clearly. Not that they have much to say at first – other than a few comments on the food, they eat in stilted silence for several minutes.

Nerves alight, Jiyong tries to focus only on controlling the anxious energy running through him. _Stop jiggling your leg_ , he tells himself sternly. _Keep eating. Don’t stare_. It was a bit like this when they started facetiming; their rhythm was off for a week or so as they adjusted to seeing each other when they spoke.

Jiyong’s not prepared to wait a week to be able to talk to Seunghyun again. “So, how was your morning?” he asks. It’s not great, but it’s the best he can come up with.

“Oh, it was good. How was yours?”

“Fine. Nothing exciting,” Jiyong says. He eats a cherry tomato, disappointed that his overture didn’t bring them back to normal, then says, “Actually, I was nervous all morning.” Maybe if he admits it, it’ll put Seunghyun at ease.

“Nervous?” Seunghyun repeats. “Nervous to meet me?”

“Yeah,” says Jiyong. “I don’t know why. We already know each other so well.”

“It’s still a big deal. Maybe I’m going to knock you out and steal your organs. I have the opportunity now.”

Jiyong smiles. “Ah, is that how you supplement a junior designer’s income? Wait for people to call you by mistake, talk to them on the phone for three months, meet them, then sell their organs on the black market? It seems very unstable. How did you know I’d call?”

“That’s my secret,” Seunghyun says, grinning. “Your ex is part of the scheme. He lures people in, then breaks up with him. It works very well, as you can see. I mean, you didn’t think someone would _actually_ behave like he did, did you?”

Jiyong nearly chokes from laughing. He’s not sure if it’s out of amusement or because he’s so relieved that they’re joking with each other. Probably both. “Oh, that explains so much,” Jiyong says, nodding as if deep in thought even as laughter still sputters out of him.

The tension broken, they find their flow again and talk as they would on the phone. Seunghyun asks about dancing the night before and Jiyong tells him, but he sidesteps their conversation afterwards – it’s too precious to him to be taken out and examined in public like this. It’s all right, though; now there’s no shortage of things to say: they talk about their jobs; a dog Seunghyun saw on his walk over (and dogs in general, and what kind they’d like to get someday); a famous designer’s new clothing brand that launched recently (Seunghyun’s firm designed their flagship store, and the brand sent samples to Jiyong and the other stylists at his company to try). A song they both like plays, which brings them to music, one of their favorite and most fruitful topics. Even the recent change in the weather is interesting to talk about with Seunghyun.

Only it’s _not_ how it would be on the phone, because on the phone Seunghyun isn’t _right there_. Their table is tiny – absurdly tiny, the more Jiyong looks at it; probably only meant for one person – and they both lean over it to eat, but even when they finish they stay like that, so close that Jiyong can count Seunghyun’s eyelashes. Seunghyun mostly keeps his arms crossed and resting on the table, but sometimes he’ll take a sip of his drink and after he puts it down his forearm will lie along the side of the table and Jiyong gets distracted thinking about how easy it would be to touch him by accident.

When they finally do touch, it’s not by accident at all.

Seunghyun is telling him a story about a guy in his office, and when he hits the punchline and Jiyong starts laughing, Jiyong’s hand flutters up to cover his mouth. He doesn’t even notice himself doing it – until Seunghyun’s fingertips are pressed against the inside of his wrist, gently tugging his hand away. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” he says. “I like your smile.”

Jiyong’s wrist is on fire – and his face, too; a great flood of heat is rushing through him and he can hardly breathe, let alone speak. Seunghyun withdraws his hand and looks away, mashing his lips together. “Sorry,” he says after a moment.

Jiyong’s voice comes out creaky. “Why?”

“For, uh, making you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to, I just –”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Jiyong says. “I – um – you...like my smile?”

Seunghyun’s eyes are on the table. He nods.

Jiyong takes a deep breath. “Do you think it’s pretty?” he asks.

Seunghyun’s gaze flashes to his, but he looks away again, redness rising in his cheeks.

 _This is it_ , Jiyong thinks. This is his now-or-never moment. He reaches across the table and puts his hand on Seunghyun’s, squeezing gently.

Seunghyun’s eyes flare. He looks at Jiyong, then back down at their hands, then back at Jiyong again, holding his gaze for a long, tenuous moment. “Yes,” he says quietly. “I think it’s very pretty.”

Jiyong grins hard, his stupid gummy smile in full bloom, and after a moment of hesitation, Seunghyun grins back.

They sit like that for a spell, sweet and chaste, until finally Jiyong says, “You live near here, right?”

Seunghyun nods.

“Maybe we could, uh, go to your house for a little bit? If you don’t mind?”

Seunghyun inhales sharply. “You want to?”

“Well, I just think maybe...maybe we could use some privacy?” Jiyong casts his eyes to the right, where a few feet away from them them another table has abruptly stopped talking and seems to be avoiding looking at them.

“Okay,” Seunghyun says, nodding. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

They break their hands apart before getting up and walking to the door, but once they reach the street, Jiyong threads his fingers through Seunghyun’s again. “Which way?” he asks, and Seunghyun leads them.

The crowds have eased some. Jiyong didn’t realize how long they spent in the café just talking. They don’t speak now; they’re walking at such a brisk pace that it would be awkward to keep up a conversation. Every now and then they look at each other and smile. _Is this really happening?_ Jiyong keeps thinking. Is this guy he’s been mooning over for three months – who happens to look like a model, but better – really taking him to his apartment right now? _Something_ has to happen. Seunghyun thinks he’s _pretty_. He likes Jiyong’s dumb, ugly smile. He likes _Jiyong_!

“Oh, uh, you know what?” Seunghyun says, stopping suddenly. “We need to make a quick detour.” He hangs a sharp left down a flight of stairs to a narrow alley between two buildings, moving so quickly that as Jiyong follows along, still holding his hand, he giggles and thinks he might fall down the steps. They walk a few meters more down the alley, which is quiet and seems to be purely residential. Seunghyun’s a step or two ahead of him. Jiyong doesn’t bother to look where they’re going; he just watches Seunghyun’s dark, searching eyes.

They’ve reached a stretch far enough from either street to feel private when Seunghyun pulls Jiyong around a wall that conceals someone’s side door and garbage cans. Jiyong looks all around him, trying to figure out where they are and why, but can’t see anything of particular interest. He looks back at Seunghyun and abruptly realizes how close they’re standing. “What’s going on?” he asks.

Seunghyun doesn’t say anything, but he squeezes his hand, and his gaze falls from Jiyong’s eyes to his lips. _He’s going to kiss me!_ Jiyong realizes. Oh god, he’s going to _kiss him_. Right here! Next to some garbage cans! Jiyong has no idea what his breath smells like. Is it bad? How can he figure out in the next quarter of a second? What should he do if it is? And his hair – has all this rushing around blown it askew? Has he finally sweat through his shirt? When was the last time he plucked his eyebrows? Is his eyeliner smudged?

But then Seunghyun lifts his free hand to cup Jiyong’s jaw, and then the tip of his nose brushes Jiyong’s, and then he’s kissing him and there was nothing to be nervous about at all. And it’s not just that Jiyong hasn’t kissed anyone in a long time, or that the last person he kissed was a jerk who stole his toaster oven and made him cry, or that there’s something exciting about kissing in an alley outside a stranger’s door – this is Seunghyun, and this is what it is to kiss someone you love, and this is what it is to kiss someone who does a stupid dance just to make you laugh, and Jiyong can’t understand why he ever kissed anyone else.

When they break apart Jiyong isn’t ready yet to look up and see Seunghyun’s perfect face, so he keeps his eyes closed and nuzzles into Seunghyun’s neck instead. This presents a new facet of Seunghyun to consider, as Jiyong is immediately wrapped up in his warm, clean scent. Seunghyun presses his nose into Jiyong’s hair, and Jiyong thinks it’s funny how an alleyway full of garbage cans can feel like the most romantic spot in the world.

Gradually Jiyong comes out of his daze and pulls away from Seunghyun enough to see his face again. “Some detour,” he says.

Seunghyun chuckles low and curls his fingers against the small of Jiyong’s back. “Sorry for the inconvenience,” he says with a smirk. “Ready to go?”

Jiyong nods, and they resume their walk to Seunghyun’s house, hands still clasped together.


	3. Sunday, Part Two

“Um...hello?” Jiyong says when he answers the phone.

Seunghyun immediately sees that this was a weird idea, but he’s too giddy from the turn the afternoon has taken to worry much. “Hi,” he says.

“You’re still in there, right? You didn’t sneak out the window or anything?”

“Yeah, I’m in here,” Seunghyun says. As they neared his apartment, his mind had flashed through all the things he didn’t want Jiyong to see: the dishes in the sink, the dirty clothes on the floor, the various hair products he’d been experimenting with strewn about his bathroom. So he’d asked Jiyong to wait in the hall for a few minutes while he went inside and cleaned up faster than he ever has before. “I just...I thought it would be cute. One more phone call? You know?” He laughs self-consciously as he approaches the door.

“Ohh, okay. Gotcha. Yeah, that’s pretty cute. But, uh...how’s the apartment looking?”

“Not too bad,” Seunghyun says. He opens the door to find Jiyong standing before him, phone to his ear. “I hope,” Seunghyun adds. They end the call and smile at each other. Seunghyun forgets himself for a moment, lost in Jiyong’s bright eyes, but then he steps aside. “Come in.”

Jiyong toes off his shoes and wanders into the living area, eyes sweeping every corner of the room. “So this is the background I’ve been seeing all these weeks.”

“This is it,” says Seunghyun. He looks around too, trying to judge it from Jiyong’s perspective. He thinks his apartment is pretty nice – it’s the best he could do with it with his salary, anyway. “You want a tour or anything? No looking in the closets,” he jokes.

“Maybe later,” says Jiyong. He sits on the couch.

Seunghyun is still hovering between the kitchen and the living area. He hasn’t had anyone new in his apartment in a long time. “Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks.

“Would that help?”

“Help? Help what?”

“Help you relax so you’ll come over here and make out with me,” Jiyong says, flashing him a grin.

A pleasant blush tingles Seunghyun’s cheeks. “It might,” he says. “But I guess we could just skip the drink.”

And then he’s on the couch, and Jiyong’s in his arms and their mouths are slotted together and it’s so _easy_ , so easy and good and _right_. Seunghyun hasn’t been with anyone in ages and he was concerned he’d somehow forgotten how to kiss and touch and make another person feel good, but so far Jiyong’s not complaining.

They’re like that for a while; Seunghyun couldn’t say how long. Their exploration is initially patient, unhurried – touching done over clothes; breathing relaxed. But at some point Jiyong’s leg hooks around Seunghyun’s and his fingers curl hard against the nape of Seunghyun’s neck and he makes this little sound in the back of his throat and everything shifts. Seunghyun’s panting slightly when their mouths break apart. “Should we relocate?” Jiyong asks.

“Relocate?”

“To the bedroom.”

Seunghyun blinks, making sure he heard Jiyong correctly. “The bedroom?” he repeats. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Do you want to...go there?”

Beneath him, Jiyong shrugs. “Why not?”

“Well...we just met.”

Jiyong laughs. “But we _know_ each other,” he says. He presses his palm against Seunghyun’s and laces their fingers together. “We know each other really well. And I like you, and you like me, and we’re adults, and we’re alone on a Sunday in this lovely apartment…” He smiles. “And you seem to want to,” he adds, brushing their joined hands against the bulge already rising in Seunghyun’s pants.

Heat flares under Seunghyun’s skin. “Of course I _want_ to,” he says. “But...it’s not too fast?”

“Not for me,” Jiyong says. “Is it for you? It’s okay if it is.”

“Well, it’s just...ah...I haven’t, uh, done this in a while.”

“Ah,” Jiyong says, scrunching up his nose and nodding. “Me either.” He giggles. “Three months.” Seunghyun immediately decides not to inform Jiyong that when he said ‘a while’ he was talking _years_ , not months. “So we’re both out of practice,” Jiyong continues, “and it’s our first time with each other, so we’ll probably be kind of out-of-synch and weird… But I really, _really_ want to have weird, out-of-synch sex with you. As soon as possible.”

Seunghyun knows the decision has been made when a shiver of anticipation goes through him at Jiyong’s confession. “Okay,” says Seunghyun. “We can relocate.”

Jiyong’s hopeful smile stretches into a lascivious grin. They untangle and move to get off the couch, but just as he’s swung his feet onto the floor, Seunghyun is struck with a horrible realization. “ _Fuck_ ,” he moans.

“What?”

“I don’t have anything,” Seunghyun says. “Lube or condoms or anything. I might – shit, I might have a condom somewhere, but I think it’s expired…” He’s standing and taking a step towards his liquor cabinet (because he’s pretty sure he threw a condom he got from a co-worker as a gag back there a few years ago) when Jiyong grabs his wrist.

“Actually…” Jiyong says. He let’s go of Seunghyun’s wrist to stand and dig both hands into his pockets, coming up with several condoms and packets of lube. “We’re okay,” he says.

Seunghyun’s voice comes out faint. “You...you’ve had those this whole time?”

Jiyong shrugs. “I’m an optimist.”

In the bedroom, Jiyong deposits his stash on the nightstand and turns back to Seunghyun with intention in his eyes. Seunghyun is still in a daze, realizing more with each passing second how Jiyong planned this – how he put all that stuff in his pockets when he got dressed this morning with the idea of going to bed with Seunghyun today. Jiyong, who is pretty and graceful and so much cooler than Seunghyun that it’s embarrassing. Just last night Seunghyun was sitting on this bed wondering if Jiyong was going on a date with his boyfriend, and now…

“What are you into?” Jiyong asks him. He’s back in front of Seunghyun again, his hands roaming Seunghyun’s chest.

“Huh?” That’s the best Seunghyun’s got at the moment.

“How do you like to do it,” Jiyong says patiently, “do you like to top?”

Seunghyun nods. “I’ve only ever been on top. Is...is that okay?” Seunghyun has never had this conversation before. He’s only been with one other guy, and his ex took the lead in everything; showed him everything. Seunghyun feels a sudden prick of anxiety that he’s not experienced enough to know how to satisfy Jiyong.

But Jiyong flashes him a grin. “That’s perfect,” he says. He plants a soft kiss high on Seunghyun’s cheekbone. “You have no idea –” he kisses the side of Seunghyun’s face – “how long –” the hinge of his jaw – “I’ve been dreaming –” his neck – “about you –” back to his jaw again – “fucking me,” Jiyong whispers directly into Seunghyun’s ear.

Seunghyun comes back to himself in a blaze of heat. He wraps an arm around Jiyong’s waist and kisses him, ravenous and raw. Jiyong responds eagerly, and soon they're on the bed together and Jiyong is pulling his sweater over his head to reveal the smooth, tanned planes of his chest. Jiyong has shown Seunghyun some of his tattoos over facetime – the Keith Haring running heart on his forearm; the Roman numerals along the top of his shoulder – but now Seunghyun can see several new ones: a Dragonball where his arm meets his chest; English words along his ribs; two Xs above his bellybutton.

Seunghyun is so distracted by these bits of Jiyong's mind inked across his skin that he forgets what the next logical step is and doesn't notice Jiyong opening his shirt until he's got two buttons undone. When Seunghyun realizes what's happening, he grabs Jiyong's wrist to stop him on a reflex.

Jiyong freezes, like an animal caught in headlights. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"I...that..." Seunghyun struggles to put it into words. "I...I don't like this part," he finally mumbles.

Jiyong stares at him for a long moment, lost, but then understanding lights his eyes. "Oh," he says, and lets his hand fall from Seunghyun's shirt. Jiyong knows something of Seunghyun's feelings about this: One Saturday afternoon in the summer, he'd questioned what on earth had possessed Seunghyun to wear a long-sleeve shirt in the oppressive heat. So Jiyong’s heard about how Seunghyun was fat as a kid and that he doesn't like exposing skin – he just doesn't know how deep that distaste goes.

"But...it's me," Jiyong says. "I'm not some stranger on the street. I know you." Seunghyun can't bring himself to meet Jiyong's eyes; he just stares at the sheets, on fire with embarrassment. "I know you can't dance," Jiyong continues. "I know you need three alarms to wake up in the morning. I know you're particular about your furniture but then you throw your dirty clothes all over everything. And I know all your dirty clothes are in a ball on the floor of your closet right now," he says, tapping on Seunghyun's thigh and trying to meet his eyes to share a smile. Seunghyun can hardly stand how sweet he is. "And you know me," Jiyong adds. "You know I would never laugh. You know I'd never be disappointed."

"You might be," Seunghyun says. "What if you were?" He just didn't _expect_ this – he didn't have time to prepare himself. Even in the café when he realized Jiyong was interested in him; even as they walked back to his apartment – he didn't think Jiyong would want to move this fast.

"I won't be," Jiyong says firmly. "How could I be? I don't even _care_. I don't care about that at all. That's not why I wanted to meet. And anyway, even if I _was_ in this for your looks, your face makes up for anything that could possibly be happening under your shirt.” Seunghyun can’t help but chuckle at that. Jiyong smiles, encouraged. “Listen, if you don’t want to take your shirt off, that’s okay. You can just leave it on for today. We can work up to it.”

That’s what finally settles Seunghyun: the promise of doing this again. Moving fast, as though he might be able to outpace the anxiety within him, he undoes the remaining buttons on his shirt and shrugs it off, eyes squeezed shut to avoid seeing Jiyong’s reaction. He knows, objectively, that it could be worse (it _has_ been worse), and he’s built up some muscle in the last few years, but he’s so _pale_ and he _still_ has these horrible stretch marks in places, and it’s just so much. So much of him is bare now.

“Yah,” Jiyong says after a moment. Seunghyun feels hands on either side of his face. “Yah, yah, yah. I have to tell you something.”

Reluctantly, Seunghyun opens his eyes. “What?”

“You’re an idiot,” Jiyong says. He starts laughing. “You’re _such a fucking idiot_.” He crushes his mouth against Seunghyun’s.

This day has already been so surreal and full of surprises that somehow it’s not scary to let Jiyong’s hands ramble across his naked chest and back; to let his tongue glide over his hardened nipples. It seems like with every breath he becomes a little more lost in it, a little more frenetic, a little more lustful. They wriggle out of their pants and underwear; any anxiety Seunghyun might have had about that is immediately dispelled by the sight of the tattoos Jiyong has high on his thighs. Seunghyun runs his hands over them, digging his fingers into what little is there, and only removes a hand to reach for the lube.

Jiyong is lying on his back with Seunghyun between his legs. He watches with darkened, wanton eyes as Seunghyun tears open the packet and squeezes some onto his fingers. He bites his lip and Seunghyun thinks it’s maybe the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Jiyong knocks his knees together then, his ankles pressing against Seunghyun’s legs as he kneels before him. “Is it cold?” Jiyong asks. In answer, Seunghyun draws a smiley face on Jiyong’s stomach with a greased finger. “Okay,” says Jiyong, apparently satisfied with the temperature. He parts his knees again and brings them all the way down to his chest so his thighs are flat against him and his hips are angled up, giving Seunghyun easy access. Impressed, Seunghyun can only stare at him for a moment. Jiyong arches an eyebrow. “I’m pretty flexible,” he says, biting his lip again to suppress a smile.

Seunghyun’s only response is to press a finger against Jiyong’s entrance. The cocky smirk fades and he draws a deep breath when Seunghyun pushes his middle finger in. Seunghyun forces himself to go slowly; he has no interest in making this anything but pleasurable for Jiyong. He loosely pumps Jiyong’s cock in time with his finger, searching all the while for that spot he knows must be there. He doesn’t find it until he has two fingers in and is gently scissoring them apart. Jiyong whimpers; a more pronounced version of the sound from the back of his throat when they were on the couch. Excited, Seunghyun leans down to kiss him, pressing against the firm bump inside him again and again.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Jiyong moans. “More.” Seunghyun adds a third finger, fucking Jiyong in earnest now. _“Fuck shit fuck_ ,” Jiyong says. “I’m ready. That’s enough. Fuck me, I’m ready.”

Seunghyun was hard already but Jiyong’s command makes him achingly so. He removes his fingers and Jiyong _whines_ , but Seunghyun can’t open a condom one-handed. When Jiyong sees what he’s doing, he sits up and grabs the packet from Seunghyun’s slick fingers, tearing it open and rolling the condom down Seunghyun’s cock. They kiss feverishly as Seunghyun smears lube over himself. “Come on,” Jiyong says, lying down and pulling back his legs again.

Seunghyun doesn’t need to be told twice. He lines himself up and eases in, doing his best not to rush it. But then Jiyong rolls his hips impatiently and Seunghyun starts to move, slowly at first but faster when Jiyong shows no signs of discomfort. Quite the opposite, in fact – he clutches at Seunghyun’s arms and sighs, mouth parted in a pretty bow.

Seunghyun can hardly believe that he’s watching Kwon Jiyong writhe beneath him like this. He feels drunk; that this is a Sunday afternoon in his own life does not seem possible. Because Jiyong, Jiyong is the man of his dreams. Jiyong is funny and kind and thoughtful. He is clever and interesting and even though Seunghyun isn’t, somehow they never run out of things to talk about. And he is gorgeous and graceful and ineffably seductive. He sticks his chin out when he’s being stubborn and runs his hand through his hair when he’s self-conscious and Seunghyun didn’t know that those were exactly the things he most wanted another person to do, but it turns out they are. And by some miracle, Jiyong looks up at him like Seunghyun’s just what Jiyong wanted, too.

They wiggle and adjust, searching for the right position, the right rhythm, and just when Seunghyun thinks maybe they aren’t going to find it this time around, they do. Jiyong moans in exactly the way porn stars are always trying and failing to imitate. “ _Fuck_ ,” Jiyong cries. “Yes. There. There, there, there.”

Seunghyun moans in response and picks up the pace. He feels the shiver that runs through Jiyong.

“When did you start to want this?” Jiyong asks breathlessly. “How long ago?”

When? He forgets. Forever, it feels like. “Months,” Seunghyun grunts.

“When you saw my face?”

“Before.”

“Tell me.”

Seunghyun doesn’t know what Jiyong wants to hear, but he’s in no position to contemplate, so he just starts talking. “I – I've been thinking about you for so long –”

“When you touch yourself –” Jiyong’s brows knit and his eyes shut and he can’t seem to finish his sentence, but it’s not difficult to catch his meaning.

“Yes,” Seunghyun pants. “Only you.”

His hands on Seunghyun’s forearms, Jiyong digs in hard – it’d hurt if his fingernails had any length to them. “You pictured this?”

“No,” Seunghyun says. “This is better than what I could imagine.” He sees now how his words affect Jiyong, how each rumble from Seunghyun’s throat elicits whimpers and squeezes. He babbles on, everything in his head, caring only to match the cadence with the thrust of his hips and his hand on Jiyong’s cock.  “You're so beautiful,” he says, “So, so beautiful; I only want you –”

Jiyong comes messy all over his stomach and Seunghyun follows shortly after. He lets Jiyong pull him down to fit their mouths together. Jiyong kisses him in a way that is both hungry and lazy, like he wants to soak in anything and everything Seunghyun has to give. They stay joined for a little while, basking in the moment, but finally Seunghyun can no longer ignore his anxiety that he’s crushing Jiyong’s tiny frame or the sticky discomfort of their sweaty bodies pressed together. He gets up and turns from Jiyong to remove the condom, careful not to spill its contents on his rug.

“Come back,” Jiyong calls.

“One second,” Seunghyun says, stepping into the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

“Why don’t you have a trash bin by your bed?” Jiyong asks when Seunghyun returns.

“I’m an idiot, remember?” Seunghyun teases.

“Oh yeah,” says Jiyong, smiling. He holds up the tissues he’s just gotten from the nightstand and used to mop himself up. “You should definitely get one.”

Another trip to the bathroom later, Seunghyun dives back into bed and Jiyong’s open arms. He thinks he should be wound up and full of adrenaline – he just _fucked Jiyong_ – but he’s more relaxed than he’s been in a long time. He’s nearly falling asleep when Jiyong breaks the silence. “Yah,” he says, “have you really liked me for months?”

“Hmm?” It takes Seunghyun a second to process Jiyong’s words. “Yeah, I have,” he says.

Jiyong pokes him in the ribs hard enough to clear the sleepy fog from his brain. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Jiyong asks. “You knew I was queer from the start.”

Seunghyun shrugs. “I didn’t think you thought of me like that.”

“You didn’t think I thought of you like that? Are you joking? Why would I have called you so many times if I wasn’t interested?”

“I don’t know,” says Seunghyun. “Because you wanted your toaster oven back?”

“But I mean, _after_ I got it back,” Jiyong says impatiently.

“Wait, wait – you got it back?” The first thing Jiyong ever said to Seunghyun was “ _Give me back my toaster oven you fucker_ ,” and his subsequent calls had started much the same way until Jiyong finally started calling Seunghyun to talk to _him_ instead of trying to call his ex. At some point Jiyong stopped talking about his ex and the stolen toaster oven and Seunghyun had forgotten about it. (The toaster oven, that is; Jiyong’s ex was still a fixture in Seunghyun’s thoughts.)

“Yeah. Dami-noona and I snuck into his apartment while he was out and stole it back.”

“You never told me that. When did that happen?” Seunghyun’s a little hurt that Jiyong didn’t bother to tell him this story.

“I don’t know, like, a week after we broke up?”

“A – a _week_?” That doesn’t make any sense. Jiyong must be misremembering things. “You called me looking for that toaster oven for at _least_ two weeks.”

“Well…” Jiyong shrugs and gives Seunghyun a bashful smile.

Seunghyun stares at him, slowly piecing it together. But what he’s coming up with still doesn’t make sense. “So...you were calling me on purpose?” he asks, and even though that seems like the only reasonable conclusion to draw, he’s still surprised when Jiyong nods. “For how long, exactly?”

“Um…” Jiyong taps on his lower lip with his index finger. “I mean...the first and second time were accidents. And then after the second time I saved your number into my phone so I wouldn’t call you by mistake anymore. So I guess, um...all the times after that?” He smiles weakly at Seunghyun. “Except the time when you were waiting to hear about your job,” he adds hastily. “That time,  my, uh, my friend called you as a joke and didn’t show me until you’d picked up, so I just had to pretend like I was trying to call my ex again. But all the other times...that was just me wanting to talk to you.”

“You...you...after the _second_ call?” Seunghyun huffs. “I can’t believe...all those times!”

“ _I_ can’t believe you thought I would let that idiot keep my toaster oven for that long.” When Seunghyun continues to gape at him, his expression turns tender and he lays his hand along Seunghyun’s jaw, rubbing his cheek with his thumb. “You really couldn’t tell?” he asks. “I thought I was being so obvious. I liked you so much, right from the start. That second call, when I started crying, you were so kind to me even though you were annoyed… I was sure you knew I was calling to talk to _you_ after that.”

“Me?”

JIyong laughs. “Yeah, you. Definitely not some asshole who stole my toaster oven, anyway. You know, I kind of resent that he’s technically the one who brought us together. I never even liked him that much. We only dated for, like, a month, and he was an idiot.”

Seunghyun lets Jiyong rattle on, still stunned by this revelation. When he gets over the initial shock of finding he’d been lied to, it occurs to him that Jiyong’s just confessed to having liked him this entire time. Liked him so much that he made up excuses to talk to him.

“Yah,” Seunghyun says, raising his eyebrows and smirking, “you totally had a crush on me. For _months_.”

Jiyong rolls his eyes, smiling. “Yeah, I did.”

“Why did it take us so long to meet up?”

Jiyong laughs. “I have no fucking idea.”

“We’re both idiots, huh?” says Seunghyun.

“Yeah. We are.” He leans in and kisses Seunghyun. “But you more.”

They spend a few more minutes like that, giggling and kissing, before Seunghyun’s self-consciousness catches up with him and he has to get up and put some clothes on. Jiyong has no such qualms and remains naked, which Seunghyun can’t say he minds. Jiyong doesn’t comment on Seunghyun getting dressed, but he does sit up to watch him. When Seunghyun’s finished, Jiyong picks up his phone and pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s take a picture.”

“I’m shy,” Seunghyun pouts, but he gets into position next to Jiyong anyway.

“Just be glad I waited until you got dressed,” Jiyong says. He taps in his passcode for his phone and it unlocks to his call log. The most recent call is from a contact named “Sexy Face Stranger”, and for the briefest instant Seunghyun panics that Jiyong’s talking to some sexy-faced guy, but then he realizes that the timestamp corresponds to the phone call they had as he was letting Jiyong into the apartment.

By the time Seunghyun gets his mouth open, Jiyong’s already in the camera app. “Yah, go back,” Seunghyun says.

“Huh?”

“Go back to your call log.”

Jiyong obliges. “What?” he asks, glancing over the list with apparent confusion.

“Is that top one me?” Seunghyun asks, smirking.

“Oh,” says Jiyong, “Um…”

Seunghyun takes the phone from Jiyong’s hand and opens Sexy Face Stranger’s contact information. He finds his phone number and a screenshotted photo from one of their facetime calls. “‘Sexy Face Stranger’, huh?” he says smugly.

“You were ‘Sexy Voice Stranger’ at first,” Jiyong admits. “But then we started facetiming…”

“But I’m not a stranger anymore,” Seunghyun says.

“You’re not,” Jiyong agrees. “I just never bothered to change it.”

On an impulse, Seunghyun goes into edit mode, taps on the name field, and clears it. He enters the word ‘Boyfriend’ and hits save.

He’s feeling pretty proud of himself, but then he looks at Jiyong’s face and sees that his expression is frozen and strange. Seunghyun can’t read him yet, and he’s suddenly horrified at what he just did. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I’m just...um, it’s a joke? I know we haven’t talked about that, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to…” How could he be so fucking stupid? Today has been _amazing_ and now he’s made it weird. _Fuck_.

“Yeah, I guess we should talk about that,” Jiyong says slowly, still staring at his phone. He looks up at Seunghyun. “I want to be your boyfriend; do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Seunghyun blinks. Is this real? Is it actually okay? “Yes,” he breathes.

“Okay, we’re boyfriends,” Jiyong says. He goes back to the camera app like they didn’t just make a major decision.

In the first photo Jiyong takes they both look dazed, but by the third they have enormous grins on their faces.

 


	4. Epilogue: Monday

Seunghyun wakes up to the chime that means he has a new message on LINE. He knows before he even opens his eyes that it’s early in the morning, some time in between the alarms that get him out of bed for work, but he has no idea what day it is. Half awake, he finds his phone on his nightstand and holds it over his face. The message is from Jiyong: _Did you sleep well?_

Seunghyun smiles, pleased Jiyong thought of him first thing in the morning. What’s he doing up so early, anyway? Seunghyun tries to remember Jiyong’s schedule – did he tell him about anything unusual going on today? – and a moment later the events of the day before come back to him. He turns his head and there’s Jiyong, sitting up beside him in bed, watching him and grinning. “It’s cute, right? Like you calling me yesterday,” he says.

It’s a little too early for Seunghyun to form full sentences, so he just nods and reaches for Jiyong. They curl up together, which is a dangerous thing to do if Seunghyun wants to get to work on time, but too tempting to resist. “I’m glad you stayed,” Seunghyun says in his croaky morning voice.

“Me too,” says Jiyong.

Yesterday evening Seunghyun had asked – perhaps somewhat bitterly – if Jiyong had dinner plans he needed to get to.

“No, I don’t have anywhere to be. Why?” Jiyong had replied.

“Well, I just thought… Because yesterday, I wanted to have dinner, but you changed it to lunch.” He chews on his lip. “Actually, when you said that, I was _sure_ that meant you weren’t interested in me. _Friends_ have lunch.”

Jiyong bursts out laughing. “You wanna know why I wanted to have lunch and not dinner? So we’d have more time to have sex, because I know you have to get up early to get to work.” (And Seunghyun has to admit, he appreciates Jiyong planning ahead – they used all the condoms Jiyong brought and still got to bed at a decent hour.)

They cuddle until alarm number two goes off, at which point Jiyong gets up and manages to pry Seunghyun out of bed before alarm number three even sounds. Seunghyun cobbles together breakfast while Jiyong showers, and after they eat he takes his turn in the bathroom and Jiyong cleans up the kitchen. He also picks out an outfit for Seunghyun, citing it as one of the many benefits of dating a stylist. Seunghyun lends Jiyong a shirt; it drowns him, but Jiyong looks himself over in the mirror and announces that he’s pulling it off.

And then they’re saying their official goodbye in the apartment (it involves a lot of tongue), and then they’re on the street, preparing to go their separate ways.

“Well…” Seunghyun says, struggling to come up with a parting line. They’re _boyfriends_ now, but he’s never become someone’s boyfriend the same day he met them. Or even been that many people’s boyfriend, period. What’s the protocol on second dates in a situation like this?

“Um, are you free, like…” Jiyong runs a hand through his hair. “Well, tonight? Is tonight too soon?” He laughs.

“Tonight’s not too soon,” Seunghyun says, relieved. “Um, I might have to work late, but I would love to see you. We can...uh...we can do whatever you want, actually. I don’t care. But I’d love to see you.”

Jiyong bites his lip, but it does little to hold back his smile. “Okay. Good. Me too.” He nods. “Well, um, I’m this way,” he says, indicating the opposite direction of Seunghyun’s bus stop. “So, you’ll let me know about work?”

“Yeah, absolutely. It just depends on my boss… Well, we’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.” He smiles and shrugs. “Call me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out wayy longer than I thought it was going to, so thank you if you stuck it out through all eleven-thousand-something words. Also for enduring the typos I'm sure this is riddled with, because at this point I can barely look at this fic so I'm definitely not noticing those things. (You can point out typos to me btw; I like that.) 
> 
> Okay thanks for reading, go follow Rida on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/kwon_jyongg) and [Tumblr](http://kwon-jyong.tumblr.com) and [go read her stories](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiyongoppar/pseuds/Rida/works)!


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